dreamer
by account-isn't in-use
Summary: if you don't have dreams, what do you have?


**Half the time I was writing this I didn't know what I was doing. So yes, it's very rubbish. Just random stuff put together. Anyway... Review please :)**

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><p><em>we're all dreamers. if you don't have dreams, what do you have?<em>

- tiger eyes

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><p>She dreams. In the day, and in the night.<p>

She dreams of him. But that's because dreams are _always_ illogical. They never do make sense. And in reality, she knows they can never be together.

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><p><em><strong>sunlight zone - 6 years old<strong>_

She's a happy, gigglish little girl.

She can dream of many things; the sweet things in life. Of cotton candy and honeyduke's best chocolate and strawberries and _once upon a time_ tales, of her chasing the butterflies in her garden, of the feel of the soft grass against her feet. Of her family, too, their faces smiling back at her, her cousins' Weasley red hair and freckles. And then surfaces a certain boy with tealish-blue hair and violet eyes. The colour's strange. But he's still her best friend, anyway.

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><p><em><strong>twilight zone - 11 years old<strong>_

She still dreams. She'll never stop dreaming. But the focus is different now. She's grown from a young child to a quiet first year.

This time, the thoughts that enter her mind range from beautiful melodies she hears on the muggle radio to her singing on stage with millions of people watching her.

She dreams of being a star, in the spotlight, famous, with lots of reporters for _The Daily Prophet_ snapping pictures of her. The headlines read, 'Lily Potter, famous like her father.'

And she's stunning the audience with a dazzling smile, but she's actually scanning the crowd of red hair to look for a colour that stands out. Turquoise. And when she finally finds it, she looks in another direction instead.

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><p><em><strong>dark zone - 17 years old<strong>_

She's famous, as expected, but her dreams are now more like memories.

The dreams are getting hazier and hazier, maybe due to the Firewhiskey acting like a thick fog, clouding the once vivid scene. It's snippets and colours everywhere, buzzing like a nearly-spoilt muggle television screen.

The object that first appears is always the tiara. The tiara that aunt Fleur wore for her wedding, then passed down to Victoire when _she_ got married.

Then it's Victoire slipping her arm through Teddy's and they walk down a long stretch of a pathway - the part of the dream that always seems to last forever.

Then it's colour. Turquoise switching to mouse brown then an emerald green. It's the colour of Lily's eyes; it may just mean something. Then again, it's her father's and Albus' too, so it may not.

Sounds start to blur into the hazy television screen. _I do._

The dream starts to float away. It's just those kind of dreams, you can remember the emotions you're feeling when you wake up, but you can never remember what it was.

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><p><em><strong>abyss - 20 years old<strong>_

No one would have believed that the daughter of famous Harry Potter would turn out this way.

It's now boys, boys, boys in her dream - with a mix of Firewhiskey and DJs blasting music and loads of dancing. A rare case of bloodshed, and most of the time penknives are in the picture. Once in a while there's smoke.

When she _does_ sleep at night, of course. Most of the time it's in the day, because she parties all night. _Sleep all day and party all night._ That's just about her motto.

Or maybe not. There isn't really much in her anymore. There's nothing to the little girl everyone used to know. It's all burned away. Her life is burning away. Nobody really knows her anymore.

But between those red dagger nails and too-short skirts and too skimpy shirts, there's always a hint of violet, almond shaped eyes.

Just a hint. The slightest bit. It might be just a figment of her imagination. But that's enough to make her run away.

It's not easy to run in heels, so whoever was chasing her soon catches up. A pair of familiar hands slip around her waist, holding her back. _It's just a dream, _she tells herself._ Wake up and I'll be okay._

She struggles to open her eyes, but then realizes this is reality. She's mixed them up.

The next thing she remembers is the feel of warm lips on hers. And it's making her giddy, light-headed. He's a better kisser than any of the other muggle boys, a million times better.

So it doesn't come as a surprise when he finally pulls away and she realizes he's got blue-green hair.

The colour's strange. But she still loves him, anyway.

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><p><strong>Last part was rubbish. If you want me to edit, please say so :) Review :)<strong>


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